The Thing With Feathers
by Crosslit.Heavens
Summary: The attention of a certain red-head changes a girl's ideas about hope...Based on a poem. One-shot.


_Of course, I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho. And I don't own the poem. Nor do I own the quote at the end. Just this story. _

_This is my first try at a one-shot, so I hope you like it. I got the idea when recently reading over one of my favorite books, "Feathers", by Jacqueline Woodson. It's just a simple tale about how taking the time to notice someone can be very meaningful. I hope you enjoy it! _

* * *

_The Thing With Feathers..._

_By: Foxgirl Ray_

_

* * *

_

I stared at the poem - read it again, because it didn't make sense...

_"Hope is the thing with feathers, _

_That perches in the soul, _

_And sings the tune - without the words, _

_And never stops at all." _

_- Emily Dickinson_

Hope.

I knew what that word was. I could have defined it for you.

I had felt it before. I had felt it when I'd learned that we were moving to Japan, when I was happy.

My mom was a brilliant woman, the smartest and most creative I've ever seen. And she worked hard, paid all her bills on time, did the best she could with whatever she had. So it had been a shock for us when she'd been laid off. It had been kind of a shock, and my mom had been instantly worried.

She hadn't been able to find a job after that. Everywhere she'd gone, they'd turned her away. They'd told her that things like Language Arts and Theatre weren't important anymore, not really. They'd said that the schools had no room for people like her, who only cost money. They'd turned her away, and we'd ended up out on the street, both her and I.

And then one day, while we'd been staying a shelter, they'd found her. She'd gotten a letter, asking her if she wanted to fly across the sea to work, to teach. And, of course, she'd accepted. She'd accepted, and off we'd flown, landing in the middle of a town who's name I couldn't pronounce, in a world that seemed as different from my home as if it were some alien planet.

But I'd been happy. I'd been _hopeful_.

I'd been an average student back home - not a genius, but certainly not stupid, either. So, I'd figured I would learn Japanese just fine. I figured that I would be able to fit in with my new classmates at Meioh Academy - the school my mom had gotten me into with just enough of a stroke of luck. I figured I would be okay.

That was six months ago. That was when I still had hope - the thing that supposedly had feathers.

That was six months ago, before I fell into the pit of despair I am now in.

My mom works a lot. She doesn't have to, but she does, and I think I'm part of it. I've been depressed lately. No matter how hard I've tried, I haven't really been able to make any friends. People pass me by in the hallway. And I'm not sure if their just being rude, or if they just don't know what to say, or if they just don't see me - but it hurts, all the same. And my Japanese isn't any better, either. I can barely tell you how I'm feeling, let alone have a decent conversation.

So, the thing with feathers has fled from me, vanished like mist on a sunny morning. I don't know how to feel hopeful anymore, because it seems like hope itself has vanished…

But, little did I know, that day, hope would find me again - though this hope wouldn't exactly have feathers.

* * *

I was walking out of school when it happened, when I saw him.

The books I was carrying were heavy, weighing me down. I had been carrying a lot of books lately, which I thought was kind of stupid, considering I didn't even understand the language they were printed in. But, that wasn't really the point, because if I hadn't been carrying those heavy books, I don't think I would have saw him.

Those books were what led me to some hope - that, and a name.

I stepped down the last of the school steps and clumsily dropped one of my books - a blue, heavy thing, which I think may have been some sort of math book, though I don't want you to hold me to that. I sighed as the book crumpled to the ground, landing all splayed, its literary guts spilling out, and bent down to retrieve it.

And that was when I heard it - the name, _his _name.

"Kurama - !" a voice said, using some sort of honorific after the name, though I wasn't sure which one, since they all confused me. "Kurama - !"

I looked up when I heard the voice, partially because of how strange the voice was, but mostly because of the name. Something about it intrigued me. It was..._different_ from the other names I'd heard in Japan, the names that all sounded alike to me. It had something fierce about it, secret.

I looked up to find the owner of the name, some unseen hunger eating at me, telling me that, for some reason, me finding its owner was important. And that's when I saw him.

I didn't think Japanese kids could have features like that - red hair and green eyes? - but this kid did, and something about them made him seem almost surreal, like he wasn't really there, just a figment of my imagination. I saw him looking at me curiously as his friend - the same boy who had shouted his name - said something to him, obviously impatient. And that was when I realized that I recognized the red-headed boy.

He went to my school, the school I had just left (which, considering he was wearing the school's uniform, should have been that much of a shocker). He was in one of my classes. His name was...well, it wasn't "Kurama", that was for sure. Maybe that was a nickname?

It wasn't until my ankle started to cramp that I realized I was staring.

I felt my cheeks turn distinctly red as I looked back down at my book, which had now fallen out of my hand, landing in the grass once again in a disheveled heap. I picked it back up, sighing to myself, and then went to stand - only to fall back down on my butt, biting ants eating at my ankle, a sure sign that my limbs were asleep.

I tried to force my disobedient limbs to work as I heard footsteps coming towards me, not wanting to embarrass myself any further, but by the time I got feeling back in my leg and ankle, he was already there.

I looked up at him without really meaning to, feeling once again strange.

He was even prettier up close, and somehow that frightened me, as if I shouldn't even have been in his presence. But, when I glanced over at his friend - a tall, ugly but nice looking sort of boy in a blue uniform - I didn't feel so bad.

The red-headed boy, Kurama, said something to me in Japanese, indicating my leg. I tried to tell him that I didn't speak his language - I had learned to say that much, at least - but my mouth went dry the moment I opened it.

Why was he here? Why did he seem to care if I were alright or not? Why wasn't he ignoring me? Everyone else did...

The boy named Kurama seemed to sense my inability to speak, and when I looked back at him, I was surprised to see the intelligence behind his eyes. He looked like he'd seen the whole world over more than once, even though he was as young as I was, and yet he was taking the time to see if I was aright...

Maybe, I began to think, that hope _does_ exist after all, and happy endings aren't so farfetched.

"Are you alright?" I was shocked into speechlessness again as Kurama spoke, his voice in perfect English. "You are Ally-san, correct?" I felt my mouth go dry again when he said my name, adding on the routine honorific.

How was it that this almost-perfect stranger knew my name, when no one else seemed to? How was it that he'd been paying that much attention, when no one else had? It just didn't make sense. I'd been invisible for what seemed like so long, the idea that someone knew my name was flabbergasting.

After all, the only people who had said my name in the past six months were...well, my teachers. My mom hardly ever talked to me, and the students at school brushed past me in the hallways. And yet...

And yet, _he'd _noticed.

"Y-Yes," I felt myself stammer, and mentally smacked myself. There was no need to act stupid in front of practically the only person who had been nice to me since I'd arrived. "I'm Ally. And you, you're in my class...You're..." I almost said "Kurama", but then stopped myself.

I'd never heard him called that before, so it _must_ have been a nickname. Maybe he would be embarrassed if I said it...

"Shuichi," he supplied, and then smiled softly. "And this is Kuwabara," he motioned towards his friend, who seemed kind of lost in our exchange, but smiled an ugly but nice sort of smile anyway.

"Oh," it was a stupid response, but I said it anyway. "Oh, okay..." I didn't really know what else to say.

I felt like I hadn't talked in ages, and even simple conversation seemed strange.

"Do you need help up?" Shuichi/Kurama smiled, offering me his hand as Kuwabara noticed my now ruined math book lying on the ground, picking it up for me.

I took his hand. "Thank you," I said, and he helped me up, and the force of the motion made me feel like I had wings and was flying - just like I imagined that hope, "the thing with feathers", did.

He held onto my hand for a few seconds before letting it go, and Kuwabara handed me back my book with a grin - and suddenly I didn't think he looked so ugly anymore.

"I'll see you in class, then?" Shuichi/Kurama asked after a moment, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left. Then, he added: "Ally-san."

And I nodded, small smile on my face. "Yes," I said firmly, clutching my book tight, suddenly not so worried about the words on it that I couldn't read.

Because, I had a feeling - a _hope_ - that I would be able to learn what I needed to. If someone could take the time to remember my name, then there had to be other someones out there like him, who would help me be what I needed to be. There had to other someones out there who would be like feathers, offering me hope.

Shuichi/Kurama and Kuwabara both said goodbye then, before heading off, and I watched them go for a moment before I looked up at the sky and all its brilliance. It seemed brighter than before, somehow, and a bird flitted by as I smiled again.

"_Hope is the thing with feathers_".

My hope was shattered once, draining away, but now it has returned, like a bird...or, like the smile of a friend I didn't know I had.

* * *

"Each moment, I am thinking, is a thing with feathers."

-Jacqueline Woodson

* * *

_Well, I hope you all enjoyed reading this short story. I certainly enjoyed writing it! Please, leave me a REVIEW and let me know what you thought! _

_~Foxgirl Ray  
_


End file.
